life. faithful.

Once upon a time, there was a school. This school, like so many like it, was held in high regard in the community. When parents sent their children to this school, they had high expectations. After all, getting an education was a great privilege. And as is said, with great privilege comes great responsibility...and in the case of this school, even greater expectations. When a student went to this school, he expected to work. His parents had often told him that nothing worth having came easy, so he didn't expect his education to come easily, either. He expected to learn reading, writing, and arithmetic, but he didn't expect to do so without a lot of hard work. He expected long nights of studying and homework, time spent learning to do what he had to do instead of just doing what he wanted to do. He expected to compete with his peers for the top grades in the class--after all, competition is how you get better. He expected his teachers to be strict and to to be tough, but hi...

At church, we've been working on a chronological reading of the Bible. I was supposed to be a 1-year journey, but...we've been working on it for quite a while now. If I'm remembering right, we're heading into our third year. So anyways, we've made our way up to the resurrection. In Luke 24, we're told that the women went to the tomb and found it empty. When they ran back to tell the eleven that Jesus's body wasn't in the tomb, the disciples didn't believe them. But Peter...he ran to the tomb. A lot can be said about Peter (I've said quite a bit myself, including in my devotional --I think I identify with him more than I might want to admit). In this moment, I can only imagine what was going through Peter's head. Go back a couple days, and you find Peter standing his ground next to Jesus, ready to die by the sword for Him if necessary. He drew his sword--then Peter watched Jesus reattach a man's ear, and he followed the crowd to Ciaph...

God, this world--our country--is a mess. We look around and can't help but see the bad. Hate-filled words are thrown out. I wish I could say it is done without thought, but it isn't. Those words, filled with venom, are spit out with the sole purpose of hurting people, creating wounds that cut all the way to the heart. Natural disasters wipe out years of hard work, leaving people homeless--but more devastatingly, hopeless. Wicked men kill innocents, and while so many lives are snuffed out in the blink of an eye, countless other lives are turned inside-out and upside down. Right is called wrong, and people try to justify evil. Things are falling apart all around us. Dreams are shattered, families are broken, hopes are lost...the future seems to be fading right before our eyes. Father, please pull us--Your children--close to You. Let us feel Your arms around us so that we are reminded of You in the middle of the mess. Let us see Your strength, even as we're remi...

Sunday, my parents celebrated 40 years of marriage. That alone is incredible, especially in this age of temporary marriages. What was more incredible to me, though, was how the day went... My parents are servants--they always have been. I can't remember a time in my life when they weren't pouring themselves out for other people. And even on their big day, that didn't change. Mom loves to cook for people, so she prepared a feast for everyone there. She was in her element, making sure everybody had a full plate, full cup, and a full belly. Pop's service looks different, but it was evident Sunday, too. Above everything else, my parents were both focused on making sure everyone there Sunday left with a full heart. Love overflows from them, and you can't help but see it. Their love for each other is unconditional (though that doesn't mean they don't have their arguments...), and that love spills out onto anyone they come into contact with. Their home that da...

What does God want from us? How much does He expect us to do? What does it take to appease Him, to fulfill all His requirements? What are we supposed to do for Him? In this world, we are used to our worth being tied to our actions. Merit determines reward, as it so often should. I struggle with that myself--if I can't "earn my keep," so to speak, I feel like I'm not good enough. Enough. That's what it comes down to for me. In so many areas of my life, I feel like I'm not doing enough. When I look at my house and see the laundry left unfolded and the dishes still in the sink and the clutter covering tables...When I watch goats die and can't do enough to save them...When I see a kid who seems to be slipping through the cracks at school, and I wonder if I've done enough to help them...When I look back at my time in graduate school and wonder if I tried hard enough to make it work... Did I do enough? Am I doing enough now? What am I supposed t...